ORIGINAL SONG. 95 



SONG, 



Written for the Celebration of the Essex Agricltulural Society, 

 By ALONZO lewis. 



r. 



We'll not rail at this world, 'tis a good one and true, 

 As the great God who wrought for our happiness knew ; 

 He bade the first Farmer to till the rude ground, 

 And that curse has the greatest of blessings been found ! 

 The wisest of men since that day spent his time 

 In searching the plants and the fruits of each clime ; 

 He knew each green thing upon mountain and lea, 

 From tlie hyssop's bright plant to the cedar's fair tree. 



We'll not rail at this world, &c. 



II. 



Such was the delight of our Fathers of yore. 



When they cross'd the dark waves to this beautiful shore. 



And the trees of our Winthrops and Endicotts stand, 



In their beauty, like spirits to guard our fair land ! 



When the First of our clime had ensheathed his bright sword, 



Mid the plaudits of millions for Freedom restor'd, 



He climb'd not a throne, bidding minions to bow, 



But left the world's van, and went home to his plough ! 



We'll not rail at this world, &c. 



III. 



View this fairest of lands that is warmed by the sun, 

 And see what the hands of the Farmers have done ! 

 They have humbled the forest, and clefl the cold sod, 

 And it now yields its tributes to man and to God ! 

 Unlike many others, the fruits they produce. 

 Are conducive to health, and are always of use. 



